Trust
by Chiba Lae
Summary: AU Daisuke's family runs a traveling circus, that is no place to raise children. When Satoshi spends too much time with a redheaded acrobat, it draws the attention of his father. A powerful man can do anything, and he will surely destroy Daisuke's family


AU, Sato/Dai. Daisuke's family runs a traveling circus in which he and all of his adopted siblings perform. But, according to law, a circus is no place to raise children. When Satoshi begins to spend too much time at the Niwa Circus due to his interest in a redheaded acrobat, it draws the attention of his father, Governor Hiwatari. A powerful man can do whatever he pleases, and he will surely tear Daisuke's family apart unless Satoshi can do something to stop it. Shonen-ai.

Disclaimer: D.N. Angel belongs to Yukiru Sugisaki. I only own the plot and these actual words.

- Trust -

"That's the basis of what we do. If there is no trust in your partner, then there is no show. So, if you don't trust me… then there's no relationship."

Circuses are severely misunderstood franchises. They are thought to be places of amusement and daring, a place for freaks, outsiders, and lawless runaways. They are where people go to take pleasure in other people's failures. After all, why would anyone join a circus if they could fit in somewhere else? But they don't realize that these 'outsiders' understand the world much better than we do. Because their whole lives revolve around one simple rule…

My motorcycle roared resolutely over the dirt road, dust speckling the black and blue paint. The afternoon sun beat down on me with little mercy, leaving the rushing air to cool my brow. I suppose you could say I was trying to escape. It wasn't that I had anywhere I was planning to go; I just needed the feel of the acceleration in my grasp to help ease my mind. I could still hear the echoes of my brother calling after me ringing in my memory, but not amount of his presence would erase the pure disgust and hatred I felt towards our father.

The man had made it clear our whole lives that we were merely pawns in his political game. We had been schooled since birth to mature at an alarming and unrealistic rate, because having perfect children was key to retaining his image. Imagine, a single father, widowed, raising two sons on his own who excelled and were following his footsteps. It looked good for his election campaigns. My brother and I had just returned home from a visit to my father's office. He had called us away from our jobs, claiming it was in regards to urgent family matters, which we knew to mean we had to go in for a lesson in role-playing. He was sure that his assistant was out of earshot before explaining that we were to attend a dinner that he was hosting the following evening. He dictated the manner in which were to address the guests, and what we were and were not allowed to discuss at the table.

Krad and I had remained silent and merely bowed once he dismissed us. It stretched into the drive home, even though Krad had made an attempt at small talk, which I blatantly ignored. As soon as we pulled into the drive, I jumped out of the car and mounted my motorcycle, already speeding off by the time Krad was yelling for me to stop.

I couldn't stand it, the way he used us. Krad despised him as much as I did, but handled it significantly better. There were times when I thought he was going to reach across the desk and rip my father's throat out, and had I thought we would get away with it, I wouldn't have complained if he did. Maybe it was because he was four years older than me, had dealt with my father longer than I have, that he was able to brush off the man's vindictive ulterior motives easier than I could. But I still struggled to accept what was expected of me. I was only fourteen; where had my childhood gone?

I saw the flags before anything else. Two green banners stood on each side of a path branching off of the road I was on. I slowed down as I neared them, not recalling them being there the last time I drove down a few days earlier. The path was more like a one lane road with random cars parked along it as it disappeared around a bend and behind the trees. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I could faintly hear music over the purr of my motorcycle.

I understood that it simply could have been a residential party, but I turned down the path to investigate, taking comfort that I had my badge on me in case anyone asked why I was there. The moment I turned the corner, I saw the tent sitting there in all its second-hand glory. The canvas material was beige and stained with dirt and use, appearing extremely worn. It was simple. Plain. If it weren't for the size and peculiar location, it might not have drawn much attention. Beside the tent were two smaller ones, a large trailer, and a gypsy cart. As I parked my cycle and hung my helmet on the handles, I could make out the word 'NIWA' in chipped paint on the cart's side.

I took quick notes of everything in sight as I had learned to do as an investigator. Two more green flags marked the entrance into the main tent where an elderly man stood watching me expectantly. As I approached, he greeted me merrily. "Good afternoon, sir, and welcome to the Niwa Circus. Admission is three dollars, if you please."

I could easily hear the sharp whistles of a calliope playing a jovial tune inside the big top, although I did not recognize the song. The feathers of a headdress worn by the musician could barely be seen over the stands and few guests in my line of sight. I glanced critically at the structure, calculating its stability and respectability. The man continued to simply smile at me, waiting, but there was knowledge in his eyes that made me feel like he knew whom I was and everything about me. It wouldn't be hard to believe if that were true; that's what happens when you are the child of a well-known politician.

I dug out three dollars and paid the fee, caring less about the money than the way he was looking at me. He tilted his head as he added the bills to his jar and never took his eyes off of me. "In this your first time visiting us, sir?" he asked, but I felt as if he already knew the answer.

"Yes," I responded shortly, walking passed him and entering the big top.

The stands were hardly more than three-tiered bleachers that only went around half of the tent, which created a semicircle ring for the performance and left the back wall clear for what assumed to be entrances and exits. I found a seat on the top tier, closest to the beige walls. Around me say wide-eyed youths, bored parents, and the random teen here and there that happened to find their way to the circus that day. I briefly considered leaving, entertainment of this nature never having appealed to me previously, but thought better of it. I wanted to do what other children my age did, and going to the circus was one of those things. I would simply have to wait it out. Glancing around me again, I noted the unusually small size of the audience. I hadn't noticed any signs advertising the event, now that I thought about it. The sudden appearance of flags had been the only indication of the circus' presence, and I had nearly driven right by it. It occurred to me that the only people here were the locals who knew it existed and had gone looking for it.

The music stopped and the brunette woman stood from her instrument. Light applause followed and the woman bowed with a smile, short hair framing her face prettily. Although being middle-aged as far as I could tell, she seemed full of youth and energy. Then a dark-haired man, a head taller than the woman, walked out into the center of the ring and offered the crowd a kind smile of his own before projecting across the room. "Welcome, to the Niwa Circus!"

The lights immediately shut off and spotlights were aimed at the ceiling as a girl seemed to freefall, entangled in thick sheets of fabric. A murmur went through the crowd, but I was still wondering how she got there since I never saw her enter. She stopped falling about halfway to the ground and let the drapes continue without her. I had never seen aerial silk performed before, but I knew of it and the strength that was required to do it. The ringmaster was saying something that I did not listen to. I was preoccupied watching the girl twist and spiral through shimmering cloth, holding poses momentarily before moving on to the next one.

Another spotlight flashed on, highlighting a young boy with black hair and a huge grin as he juggled in one hand and spun a plate in the other. A third light hit a longhaired girl who was twirling a flaming baton, the fire making all the glitter on her sparkle manically. A fourth landed on the woman from the calliope who was now demonstrating a painful-looking contortion as she bent her body in half, backwards.

Then, a fifth spotlight landed on a redheaded boy just as we was leaping off of a platform high above the others and catching a trapeze as it swung passed. That was where my eyes stayed. The room had come alive with music and colors and people, but my gaze remained trained on the boy hanging by his knees. On the peak of his swing, he let momentum drag him upright and spun around to face the other direction. Falling forward, his ankles caught on the corners of the rung and he flipped, grabbing the bar and pulling himself back atop it with ease as it swung back across the ceiling. Every movement was precise, fluid, and graceful. I could tell that he had been doing this for a very long time. But he was only about my age. In fact, they were all about my age…

I watched no one but him for most of the show. The others, when I did spare them a glance, were nothing in comparison. This boy was born to be an acrobat, and it radiated from him. He was happy, and doing what he loved.

After some time, the girl who I recognized as the aerial silk performer had taken his place on the platform, obviously to give the boy a break. As the audience watched her instead, I stared at the tuff of red hair that I could barely see sitting mostly out of sight. The girl performed solo for a solid fifteen minutes before the boy stood up to join her. As he gripped a second trapeze, preparing his timing for the jump, his eyes scanning below him at how the other performers were doing. The other two teens had moved on to throwing the girl in the air and catching her on his feet repetitively, and the woman was successfully using fifteen hula hoops at one time with both arms and legs.

The redhead's eyes then moved to the audience, noting the amount that had shown up that afternoon, but no one was looking at him. No one, except for me. Our eyes locked for mere moments. The elation in his face faltered, and I could barely detect the heavy breaths he was still taking from his earlier exertions. I wasn't aware of my expression, but it must have been disappointing, because he released a sigh and his eyes softened dishearteningly.

"…double trapeze!" the ringmaster announced, and the redhead snapped his gaze away from me, jumping from the platform almost immediately. I furrowed my brow as I noticed that the boy's timing was off from the girl's. Not by much, but enough to chance disaster. If my calculations were correct, as they most often were, if the boy released the rung at his current pace, he wouldn't reach the girl's waiting arms in time. He would fall. It was then that I became painfully aware of the absence of a net.

The boy seemed to notice this, too, because his swings became a little harder as he tried to pick up speed. The delay in the trick made the audience grow impatient and I could hear them shifting around me.

Then, he leapt.

XXXXXXXXXX

Delighted children led their parents out of the big top after the show, chatting merrily about the amazing feats that they had just witnessed. I allowed the flood of spectators to pull me towards the exit, too busy thinking about the mechanics of the show to bother doing otherwise. A movement from one of the other tents caught my attention and I paused my steps to watch it in curiosity. A small pointed face with crimson eyes and hair was peeking out, scanning the crowd for something. I could faintly hear the call of a voice from within over the murmur of the people surrounding me, and then the boy's face retreated back inside.

For a moment, I considered returning to my motorcycle and going home to face my brother, but I couldn't deny my interest in the boy. I wanted to know everything about him and how he came to be part of this tiny, traveling circus. I pushed my way out of the steady stream of families and leaned against the bars of a fence to wait for the redhead to exit the tent.

"I'm sorry, son, but no one can stay here. All of the guests have to leave the premises." I looked to the voice and found that the ringmaster himself was addressing me.

I pulled out my badge and displayed it to him. My name is Commander Hiwatari. I'm waiting for someone."

Surprise covered the man's features. "Oh? My apologies. Are you awaiting one of the performers?"

"Yes, a red-haired boy, just about my age."

"May I ask what the charges are?" he asked with a nonchalant air, as if they were having small talk and not discussing the deeds of the young trapeze artist.

"There are no charges."

The man's face appeared slightly curious, but for the most part relieved. "Well, then, why don't you follow me to the back?" he offered, motioning his arm to indicate the way back to an employee entrance.

XXXXXXXXXX

The small dressing room was dim as the late evening sun sent an orange light through the tent's fabric walls. Daisuke began to remove the bracing bandages from around his wrists with a sigh of fatigue. Another afternoon spent just the same as every other. No change in pace, no surprises, no death-defying acts that had never been seen before… no. Just the small family owned circus that he had been participating in all of his life. Not that he minded! He loved this little show, and he was closer to his family more than most teenagers because of it. This entire performance, even though played out a million times, required one thing above all else. And that is what kept his family together.

Riku, the young aerial performer from the upper platform, tapped the redhead's shoulder timidly, successfully startling the other out of his dazed state. "Daisuke? Are you all right? You seem out of it," she questioned, brushing her hair and trying to rid it of all of the glitter that her sister had put in.

"Yes, Riku, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" asked her sister, busying herself with taking off her makeup. She lowered her cotton ball in thought as she tried to find the right words. "You seem a bit…"

"Distracted?" came the voice of another young boy. The three turned to see Keiji Saga and Takeshi Saehara enter the room. The blonde was smirking a little and the other was looking at everyone a tad bit confused. "Just who were you so busy gazing at during the show, Dai?" asked the grinning boy with a ha-ha-I-caught-you demeanor. Keiji worked the lights and soundboard, and was therefore able to watch everything that happened during the show.

"Gazing at?" Risa repeated, glancing between the blushing redhead and the snickering blonde. "What do you mean, Keiji?"

"He was too engaged in watching someone in the audience to pay attention to when he was supposed to jump. If he hadn't picked up the pace a little, you wouldn't have been able to catch him and he would have fallen. And that wouldn't have been too good for the show's reputation, now would it?"

"Reputation?" inquired the shorthaired showgirl, sounding scandalized. "You're more concerned with the show's ratings than with Daisuke's safety? What kind performer are you? Your colleagues should always come first! _Especially_ in a circus!"

"If we had a serious injury here, or worse, a _death_, there wouldn't_ be _a circus anymore! We're so small that we can't afford any mistakes. One wrong move and we'll be put out of business! Then where would we all go?" finished Keiji with a snap at the others.

Silence fell between the five of them as they thought this over. They didn't have anywhere else to go. They were brought up here. Daisuke's family had begun the circus a while back and had adopted the other four children when they were still young enough to learn all of the rules and tricks of the show. They had never gone to school and they certainly had never stayed in one place long enough to make any outside friends. They had each other, and that was about it. They were family, in a way. And they needed each other to keep going strong. Without the show, they would probably be separated into foster homes since the Niwas would have no way to support all five children, and the likelihood of them staying together, or even meeting again after that, was severely slim. How, then, could they pretend that everything was alright and that every show was not a decision about if they would still be the 'family' that they were before the curtain fell by the time that it did? Every act mattered: every ring, every jump, and every trick. Their lives as they knew it depended on perfection. But then again… this _was_ their life as they knew it, and so they were used to the serious consequences. Perhaps that is the reason that Daisuke was able to behave so indifferently when questioned.

Riku glanced at the redhead; the boy was peeking through an opening in a flap of the tent, scanning the crowd as if searching for something. "Daisuke! What are you doing?" she cried, appearing vexed that he was so easily distracted from such a solemn conversation.

He closed the flap quickly and turned to his fellow performers. "Nothing. Look, I'm sorry if I worried you, Keiji, but I just heard dad call out the performance and jumped without thinking. I'll be more careful next time. I was just tired."

Takeshi, on the other hand, instead of being as serious and accusing as the others, noticed that Daisuke was searching for the thing which had diverted him earlier and he rushed to the other boy's side, sitting on a trunk of costumes and pulling back the tent flap again. "Where is she? Is it a pretty girl or something? I wanna see her!" he rambled slightly.

Risa marched over to the dark-haired boy, grabbed him by the ear, and pulled him off of the trunk and out of the dressing room; Takeshi was releasing cries of protest the entire way. Keiji rolled his eyes at them both as they passed him. "Just get changed already. I need your help to put away the horses," he concluded, following the other two out of the tent. Riku was left behind with the accused boy, glancing between the retreating form and her best friend.

"Um, Daisuke, look, I understand if you are just sort of out of it. That happens sometimes, so it's really not a big deal. But… try to stay focused while you are out on the platform. Keiji's right. We can't afford to screw up…" With that, she also left, leaving a confused and distressed Daisuke Niwa laying his head down the table next to the costume box.

After a few minutes, he reluctantly sat up and began to undress. Those leotard costumes really were a pain to wear and he would be better able to daydream in comfort once he was in normal street clothes. He was just pulling on a deep green sweatshirt to go with his blue jeans when a call pulled him out of his thoughts. "Daisuke?" asked his dad's voice outside the entryway.

"Yeah?"

"There's someone here who wants to talk to you. Are you finished in there?"

"Uh," Daisuke looked himself up and down in confusion. Someone who wanted to speak with him? Who could that be? "Yeah, I'll be right out." Stuffing the costume back in the trunk and slipping on a pair of tennis shoes, he exited the dressing room to see his father standing nearby, his back to him, attempting to talk to me. Daisuke stopped in his tracks as the slowly setting sun sent shades of purple over us and made his red hair radiant. 'That boy… he was the one from the audience… the one that…'

After hearing the rustle of footsteps walk out of the small tent, the ringmaster, who had introduced himself as Kosuke, turned around to see his son rooted to the spot, staring at me in silent surprise. "Oi, Daisuke. Get over here, will you?" Daisuke. It means 'great.' The name would stick with me for the rest of my life. The man watched patiently, as the redhead finally found his footing and slowly made his way up to them. I was returning the other's stare with a stoic face but eyes that shined slightly in interest. Once Daisuke was standing next to his father, the man continued. "This is Commander Hiwatari," he introduced to his son, indicating the other boy.

"Commander?" murmured the performer curiously, partly as a greeting and partly questioning.

I nodded to him and bowed slightly. "Niwa."

"Well, then," put in the man casually and began to walk away. "I am no longer needed so I will leave you two to chat."

Daisuke's eyes followed his departure momentarily before he remembered something. "Oh, Keiji needed help with the horses," he called to his father. The man made a hand signal behind him in a way to brush aside the concern and yelled back that he would help the blond instead. With that, he turned the corner around the tent and was out of sight. Daisuke looked back at me, appearing no more comfortable than before and still mildly intimidated. I nodded to the side lightly, and led the way to a nearby bench to sit on. The redhead followed silently and sat a good foot or two down the bench from me. After a moment, the performer began to feel anxious and so broke the silence. "You wanted to talk to me?" he asked timidly.

I once again nodded and responded shortly, staring forward and not looking at the other. "Yes." I was quickly coming to terms with the fact that I had no true reason for calling him out other than my unfaltering interest in him. Something about Daisuke demanded my attention. With an internal sigh, I continued. "I suppose I was curious about your act." I paused, trying to think of a believable excuse for my being there. "There was no net to catch you, had you not realized your off timing."

Daisuke wanted to bang his head on a table. Even a spectator had realized his mistake? He knew that he was off, but not by _that_ much. Barely any, in fact. "Y-you noticed?"

"Hn. It wasn't too drastic, but still enough for concern." I turned to gaze at the other boy, the sun's last rays making my blue eyes not appear all that blue, but made his shine and dance like crazy. "Not to mention that the cause seemed to be one of distraction," I offered subtly.

The redhead recognized the fact that he was staring and quickly looked down at his hands, a light blush tinting his cheeks. 'Am I _that_ easy to read?' he thought, not noticing that I was returning the stare. The pink on his cheeks was accentuated by the orange glow from the horizon, and I felt the urge to absorb all of the warmth he was exuding.

"I suppose one of my questions is why this program does not have the necessary safety equipment." I wasn't following what I was saying. I was rambling about things that didn't matter to me in order to hide my interest in him. I couldn't keep this up. I was losing track of my own statements.

Daisuke shook his head lightly. "Why don't you speak to the ringmaster about this? I can't tell you anything."

"I chose to speak to you since you seemed just as intrigued with me as I am with you," I answered candidly, causing the other to look up at me with his sparkling, crimson eyes.

"What… What makes you think that?"

"It doesn't take a genius to realize when someone is drawn to someone else. So, tell me, Niwa-kun. If I am incorrect in my assumption, just what was it that was distracting you up there?"

Daisuke's face was burning up. 'Who is this guy to assume that he understands what I'm thinking? Some police commander just waltzes into the circus one day for no apparent reason and now acts like a therapist? What's with the unprovoked interrogation?' Daisuke stood, his hair falling in front of his down-turned face and mostly concealing his blush, not that I didn't already know that he was embarrassed and frustrated. "I have to go," he mumbled, bowing slightly then turning on his heel to leave. I didn't call out anything as the other ran away from the bench and towards the wooden gypsy trailer on the other side of the property. "Hmm…" With that, I stood as well and walked in the opposite direction to my motorcycle. I fully intended to return to this little circus, if for no other reason than to see that boy again.

TBC…

Author's Note/ Ever since I completed 'Burning Ice & Freezing Fire,' people have been begging me to write another Satoshi/Daisuke fic. Well, finally, here it is. I'm putting this up to see what sort of attention it gets. If you like the idea of it, please let me know in a review. If no one seems to read, I may just let this idea go. I hope to hear your feedback.

-Chiba Lae


End file.
